


Monster Skin

by UnluckyAmulet



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: AU, F/M, Minor Injuries, Reader Insert, Supernatural - Freeform, Yandere!Izaya, fantasy!au, reader is female, some fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27304819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyAmulet/pseuds/UnluckyAmulet
Summary: Sometimes, it helps to be around the biggest monster of them all.
Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Reader
Kudos: 32





	Monster Skin

**Author's Note:**

> So uuuh, Happy Halloween! I got into DRRR a couple of months ago and MAN the Izaya thirst is real. So here's a lil Halloween treat, please bare with me as this is my first go at writing the little bastard. <3

You are running.

The streets seem to mock you as you dashed through alleyways and tore down streets, garbage swirling up in the breeze kicked up by your feet. You knew that home wasn't too far away - but even the shortest distance might be enough for one of them to catch you.

You had been naive to think that you were safe to leave the safety of home. You'd just been...so cooped up and bored, you didn't think it would be a bad thing to go outside for a while, stretch your legs and change the environment a bit. Plus, you were low on supplies and the idea of doing a little shopping had appealed strongly to you. Oh, you could have whatever you needed if you just asked, but you wanted to get it for yourself. You just wanted a little independence - was that so wrong?

Apparently, yes.

As you run down the street, panting, you listened out for the sound of footsteps chasing you. They seemed to have died down some, but you know enough not to let your guard down. Just because you can't hear them doesn't mean they aren't still out there.

You have to stop, though. Just for a second - the stitch in your side from running is getting almost unbearably painful and you’re almost home. You can see a light shining from one of the windows, like a beacon of hope.

And then something slams into you, so hard it knocks you off your feet and sends you hitting the floor, skidding a little across the cobblestones. The cuts on your arms and body throb with pain as they scrap across rough stone and a shriek leaves your mouth, like an animal in a snare. You look up to see a wolf over you, eyes glowing in the darkness, claws bared. Behind him, more of them are closing in. You try to get up, blood pounding through you in sheer panic, but the creature has knocked the wind clean from your lungs and it’s taking up all of your concentration just to get your breath back. You fumble for a weapon, snatching a knife off your belt, but you know such a paltry blade wouldn't do much more than inconvenience them.

"Don't..." you say, trying to sound like you had some authority to command them, but your voice comes out shaking.

They're circling you now - creatures of the night, all too willing to rip you to shreds for a taste of flesh, of your blood. But you're not going to lie there and wait for them to kill you, so you stagger to your feet, holding the glinting blade out in front of you. Your legs feel like jelly and you can see your breath escaping you in clouds of vapour, but you stare the wolf down in the eyes anyway.

And you hope for a miracle.

The wolf bares his teeth and he's close enough that you can count each and every one of his razor-sharp fangs.

He lunges.

You brace yourself.

And then, he stops, looking astonished. You stare at him and he stares down at himself - where a puddle of scarlet is growing on his chest, matting the fur and shreds of T-shirt still clinging to his torso. You look stupidly at the knife you're holding, even though he didn't even get close enough to you for you to use it - the blade seems to wink up at you, clean as a whistle.

Then the wolf collapses onto his front and you stagger backwards. The other monsters are staring at you in numb, horrified silence. Wait, no - they aren't staring at you. They're looking at what's right behind you. You don't want to turn around, you really don't, but your head starts craning around before you can stop yourself. A very familiar smile greets you.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Izaya takes a step forward, and the entire horde take a step back, like some bizarre dance, the body of the fallen werewolf providing something of a marker for them to cower behind. And with good reason - Izaya looks calm, outwardly. He's smiling as usual and his body is still, but his wings are flared slightly and you know him well enough to be able to tell the changes in his mood from the subtle shifts in his smile. And judging by the tightness around his eyes, the way his lips are slightly thinned, you know this.

Izaya Orihara is _pissed._

His eyes flick over your injuries, briefly, but it's enough for him to assess the damage. You won't die of them, at any rate, but some of the cuts are deep and still bleeding, no doubt spilling more of your tantalising scent into the air. He steps closer, moving in front of you and twirling another one of his knives around his finger. The same silver blade that just killed a full-grown werewolf in seconds. He tilts his head, surveying the terrified gathering of monsters. You notice he's blocking you a little with one of his wings, hiding you from their sight.

"So," Izaya hums, tilting his head, eyeing those unfortunate enough to be at the front of the crowd. "Who wants to die next? I'm not picky. Anybody else wants a bite of my human, hmm?"

The horde scatter. It's like he's spoken a magic spell, dispersing both them and the blinding panic that had swallowed you with a few casual words. He watches the crowd part with a vague air of satisfaction, though his red eyes still have a chilliness that is more unnerving than anything else about him, knives included. It's only when the last of the monsters vanished that you suddenly feel your knees give out, hitting the ground hard. Pain bites into your kneecaps and you know they will bruise later, but now that the panic and adrenalin are starting to fade, terror at what had almost happened starts to sink into your brain.

_They...they almost...oh, fuck!_

Izaya turns to you, gives a fond sigh, like you're a child who has fallen and scraped her knee. He gives you his hand.

"Come on, darling. Let's go home."

~

The stuff Izaya says will stop your wounds from getting infected smells strange, sort of lemony and sharp. You wrinkle your nose as he applies it to the slashes on your arms, his touch surprisingly gentle. Still, even in the relative safety of Izaya's castle, you can't stop yourself from shaking. If he hadn't have come to your rescue when he had, you'd probably be in pieces by now. A stark reminder of how weak you are compared to the other beings around here.

Not only that, but guilt curdles in your stomach. Izaya hasn't said much about your ill-advised adventure (a rarity for him), but he doesn't need to speak for you to know the enormous mistake it was. You look down at your hands as Izaya is apparently satisfied your injuries have been sufficiently tended to, because he nods and seals the lid of the jar, setting it to one side. He looks at you, but you can't quite bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"I did warn you not to go out at night," Izaya says in a hum, and it's the lack of accusation in his voice that breaks you.

"I'm sorry-!" you blurt out, feeling tears stinging your eyes. "I just...I just wanted...to..."

There's a lump in your throat and it's hard to talk around it. What excuses can you give that won't sound ridiculous? He's right, he has told you, but maybe the dangers of it hadn't really sunk in for you, being relatively well-protected as you are inside these walls. Well, you sure know your limitations now, don't you?

Izaya hums in the back of his throat and holds out his arms. It's all the invitation you need to bury yourself in his chest. You don't want to start crying but the sobs take over, the mélange of guilt, relief, fear and frustration too much for you to hold back. For his part, Izaya takes it in good humour, tutting theatrically but also bringing you closer, shifting you onto his lap. He doesn't utter a word of complaint as you promptly soak his T-shirt, merely running his hands up and down your back in a soothing gesture that you wouldn't have thought he'd be capable of.

"Sssh. Silly thing," he practically coos, dragging his fingers through your hair, admiring how soft it is. "You didn't think I'd let them hurt my lovely little human, did you?"

Unseen by you, Izaya grins.

He can't help himself. He just loves it when you're like this - so needy and sweet and _vulnerable._ It makes his heart race when his human shows her weakness to him, especially since he can be comfortable in the knowledge that you were never in any real danger at all. 

He had seen your wanderlust, noted the early warning signs for cabin fever ages before you. His castle is large and given who he is, anything you could want, he can get it with a snap of his fingers. But all the luxury in the world won't stem the yearning for freedom he knew was singing in your veins, begging to be released. It's not that he had you under lock and key before, but he knew forbidden you from venturing out past his territory would only fuel your feelings of being imprisoned and you'd fight harder to be free. He couldn't have that, not when you were so endlessly entertaining.

So Izaya had arranged things just so, knowing you'd choose a night when the moon was full and the night wasn't too cold, to venture out and explore. You were free to wander around in the day, so naturally the night Izaya had warned you about would be the perfect forbidden fruit. He'd informed the nearby colony of monsters there would be a human in their midst that night and paid them to give you chase, remind you of why they were to be feared. Obviously, the werewolf had allowed bloodlust to overrule his common sense, and anything that actually harmed you had to die. Izaya felt only slightly annoyed he had forgotten to retrieve his knife from the werewolf's body - they didn't come cheap, after all.

When you start to calm down a little bit, he tilts your face up, taking in your adorably teary eyes for a second, before pressing his lips to yours. You respond enthusiastically, likely taking comfort in the familiar, or perhaps you're relieved he isn't angry with you. How can he possibly be, when you're just so damn cute?

"Can we...stay like this a while?" you ask Izaya, shifting a bit closer, so warm and soft.

He smirks and brushes a thumb across your bottom lip, watching your eyes darken pleasingly. Perhaps you were angling to express how glad you were to be alive in the more carnal sense? His wings flexed at the thought.

"Anything for you, lovely." he purrs, dragging you in for another kiss.

It strikes Izaya as funny. Even if you didn't know you weren't in any real danger at the time, he'd never seen you look so terrified as when you were cornered by the gang of snarling monsters. Yet here you were, with the thing you truly should be afraid of, giving yourself to him all too willingly. 

Humans are peculiar like that, especially you. But that was why he took such measures to make sure you didn't leave or want to, why he spoils you so much, why he's willing to indulge you. It's selfish desire at its finest, the perfect plaything for Izaya to have all to himself. He nips your bottom lip hard, making you squeak, a hand pulling you closer still, his eyes agleam with avarice.

How he _adores_ you.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Tonight is a blue moon on Halloween, making it both a blue and harvest moon. How spooky!


End file.
